You Might As Well Hang Onto Them
by hurricanecaroline
Summary: My admittedly too good to be true idea of how Sam and Andy will get back together, because God knows they're meant to be together. Just a one-shot, based on the promo for 3x11.


Wouldn't it be wonderful if this was how next week went? Gosh, a fangirl can only dream. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

He avoided eye contact, and she stared at the ground.

"The keys. To the truck. It's my only other set so I should probably get those back." He stated, completely stoic. She shuddered at his completely impersonal request. He was cutting off ties with her. He was making a clean break. She felt blindsided, but swallowed hard, nodding quickly at him.

"Yeah. Yep." She struggled to keep it together, taking in the severity of the situation. Her eyes darted around, looking anywhere but towards him. Turning on her heel, she walked quickly to the squad car where Nick was writing something down, greeting her absentmindedly.

"Hey…" He looked up, noticing her red eyes. When they had gotten to the crime scene she was fine, joking with him about her breakup self-help book. Nick didn't really believe Sam and her were over, and assumed Andy's book was an impulse purchase.

"Andy, talk to me." He said, urging her to look up at him.

"Nick, not right now." She shut him down gently, rummaging through her bag in the trunk. After a frenzied search, she found what she was looking for. Nick saw the keys in her hand and nodded in understanding. He knew she didn't have a car, so they had to be his.

"Got it." He rubbed her back soothingly in the shelter of the squad car's trunk while she took a deep breath. She smiled weakly up at him before shaking it all off and shutting the trunk, trying to compose herself.

She walked towards him with a purpose while he took notes on whatever CSU was saying. She waited until they were finished and held his keys up by the ring. He took them gently and she pulled her hand back, preventing their hands from touching. He shoved them in his jacket pocket, turning away from her.

Not even a 'thank you'.

* * *

It had been a week. A week since he broke her heart. A week since he broke his own heart. A week since he'd done the unimaginable. A week since he'd watched her cry, _made _her cry, and then slammed the door in her face. This feeling was worse than when she had been with Luke. It was worse because he chose it. This miserable, masochistic, self-loathing that Andy's absence created was materializing itself in excessive scotch and blank, empty glares across the room at work.

He took a sip.

He never thought he'd be in this position, that _he _would be the one to push her away. But that's what he thought in a world with Jerry. Back when things were… simple. Back when he and Andy made a great team on the job and off. But this new world, this world without Jerry, it was too much for him. He couldn't handle himself. He knew he was self-destructing, and he didn't want to drag her down with him. She didn't deserve that.

He took a sip.

He'd ridden alone for morning shift, but he knew it wouldn't last. Frank was starting to notice his solidarity, and he was worried. Sam was never one to open up to people, but when he and Andy were together, Frank noticed that he smiled more. He was ever so slightly gentler with suspects. He pity-laughed at Epstein's jokes. Frank didn't know the details of their falling out, nor did he care to know, but he knew it was no good for Sam or for the division. And he knew Sam couldn't ride alone for long. It was just a matter of time.

He took a sip.

After shift, he'd pulled on a black t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. He planned to stop by the Penny on his way home. He didn't want to see anyone, but he knew all too well what happened to cops who went home and drowned their sorrows on their own. After Jerry's funeral, he'd poured out all his hard liquor down his sink. He was angry and sadder than he'd ever been in his life, but not enough to turn to the bottle.

He took a sip.

He wrinkled his nose. A familiar stench lingered behind him. He'd know that overpoweringly girly cologne anywhere. The smell practically made him sick. He stared into his drink, willing the unwanted presence behind him to disappear.

"Swarek." Luke barked gruffly, annoyed that Sam hadn't turned around. Sam looked up at him, smiling an obnoxious, sarcastic smile.

"Callaghan!" He called out in response, feigning excitement. Luke rolled his eyes.

"Listen. Jerry's gone." He paused, letting the words sink in. Sam's eyebrows shot up, questioning the detective's obvious statement.

"Pushing Andy away isn't going to change any of that." He continued. "If you don't figure that out soon, you're gonna lose Andy for good." He finished, turning to walk away.

"Take it from me." He called over his shoulder.

Sam cringed; the thought that what he was doing was _anything_ like what Luke did literally disgusted him. He told himself that it wasn't, that he was doing this for her own good, but even he wasn't sure anymore.

He took a long, long sip.

"Whoa there, brother." A much more welcome presence sat down next to him. Sam smiled feebly at him, raising his glass ever so slightly.

"How… are things?" Olivier pried awkwardly, never sure how to approach the topic of Andy with Sam.

"Things are great" Sam replied sarcastically, forcing his phoniest smile.

"Buddy, she's great. For you, you know. I mean… you need her around." He opened his mouth, but Sam jumped in before he could continue.

"Oliver, I can deal with…"

"She put in for transfer." He interrupted with a twinge of annoyance.

Sam felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. He almost spat out his drink, and one of the saddest, guiltiest, most terrified looks filled his eyes. He looked up at Oliver.

"She… she _what_?" He asked, willing it not to be true. Oliver nodded his head grimly. Sam held up his empty glass, signaling to the bartender. He made eye contact with a speck on the wall across from him and never wavered. Oliver fidgeted with his drink, unsure of what to say.

"Do yourselves both a favor…" he started, gently advising his friend, "just fix this." Sam kept his eyes locked on the wall in front of him, and Oliver patted him on the back before turning around to join Noelle and Frank.

Sam scanned the bar for the first time that night, downing half of his drink in one bitter gulp. He knew he'd already had too much to drive, but he was in for a long night. Pulling his jacket over his shoulders slowly, he dropped a twenty on the bar and walked the back door. He knew Andy liked taking this way to get home, and he'd have to intercept her here if he wanted to get a moment alone. He leaned against the metal railing, staring up at the sky.

"No." She saw him before he saw her, the metal door shutting behind her. "You don't get to do this." She shook her head, staring at the pavement. He saw the sadness in her eyes.

"Why did you put in for transfer?" He barked at her, feeling betrayed. She leaned against the wall, standing in front of him and avoiding eye contact. She thrust her hands deep in her pockets, shaking her head in disbelief.

"We're not going to be friends. Ever. And what you said…" she started to sound angry, "what you said about Jerry? I will _never_ forget that." She closed her eyes, trying to stay calm. "If we're not… If this is…" she paused, "I can't see you every single day. It's not… good. For either of us."

He replied quickly, trying to keep his emotions in check. "It was my judgment that was the problem. I don't blame you for Jerry, but it's too complicated. You and me, it just changes things. I question my own judgment and…"

"Ray Nixon."

"What?" he squinted, confused at her interruption.

"Ray." She paused, "Nixon." She said simply, crossing her arms in front of her.

All of a sudden, it came back to him. In his head he'd blocked it out. The pain, the terror in her eyes. He'd left her. He hadn't trusted her judgment. He'd let his own pride get in the way of doing his job, of backing up his partner. And if it weren't for Luke, she might not be standing in front of him. He cringed at the thought of her tied up in that storage unit, wondering where her partner was.

"That…" he started, unsure of how to respond. They'd never talked about this. About the time when he wasn't there for her. He didn't realize what this meant to her.

"Your 'judgment' told you to leave me alone," she continued, "because your ego was bruised. And If _Luke_ hadn't trusted my judgment, I'd be another dead rookie from 15. You didn't trust my judgment then, and it almost got me killed."

Her words stung in a way that was so strong he couldn't speak. One thing he took pride in was being dependable. He always wanted to be someone who was there for her, on the job and off.

"Andy…" he started, shaking his head in sorrow. "I wasn't there. Back then. I should have listened to you. I let my emotions get in the way of doing my job. And it almost got you killed. This time, I let my emotions get in the way of doing my job, and that got Jerry killed. I never for a moment blamed it on you, only myself. But don't you see the common factor here?" His voice raised, he was getting worked up.

"I…" He shut his eyes, clenching his jaw and rubbing his hand along his stubble. "I love you." He stuttered. "Which is why I can't do this." He said with resolve, shutting his eyes hard to block out her response.

"If being with you means I'm letting someone down, or someone's gonna get hurt, I can't do it!" He was almost yelling at this point, hands flying in the air.

Her mouth was agape. She had envisioned a million different scenarios of how he was going to reciprocate the three-word sentiment. She never imagined it would be like this. She never thought it would be used as ammunition in an argument. She never thought it would be used to prove a point, to break up with her. He loved her… which is why he was running out the door?

"Well, I guess I'll add you to the list then." She spat bitterly.

"What?" He looked up at her, confused.

"My mom, Luke, and now you." She watched the color drain from his face.

She continued angrily, "the list of people who have said they loved me, _made a promise _to be there for me, and then walked out the door when it got tough."

This blow was too much for him. He lost his breath. He had tried to protect her by letting her go, by making a clean break. But he'd said it before, 'this was him, messy'. Messy or not, she still wanted him, so why did he want to run for the hills? Was it too good to be true? Did he think that she'd run, like she had a history of doing? Or was the look on Traci's face too much for him? The thought of Andy in that position, or _him_ in that position, did that turn his stomach?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he made a promise to her, and he'd take a bullet before he was added to a list with Claire McNally and Luke Callaghan.

His silence spoke volumes to her. "That's what I thought." She said somberly, walking away. He struggled to find words as she walked down the dark street.

"Wait." He barely uttered the word. She stopped in her tracks, hanging her head.

"Sam…" she started, turning to look at him. "Don't chase me until you know what you want. Until you're ready to… to _catch_ me."

They locked eyes for a long moment. He reached in his pocket.

"I can't." He said simply, holding the spare keys out. The streetlight reflected off of them.

She rolled her eyes. "Call Oliver. I'm not your girlfriend, I'm not your rookie, and I'm most certainly not your designated driver." She said caustically, turning to continue walking away.

"No…" he stopped her again. "I mean you should probably just hang onto them." He shot her a small smile. She looked confused.

"I made a mistake." he expression lightened ever so slightly. "I'm sorry." Looking up at her, he continued. "Andy, I'm not going to break my promise. Not now, not ever. And _that's _a promise." She looked up at him skeptically, not entirely convinced. He was going to need to prove it, and everything was not by any means 'all better'.

"But..." he sounded uncomfortable. "I do, you know." He looked into her eyes, his tone was genuine. "I mean it." He gulped, "I've said it before but I've never meant it. I do mean it. Which is why it scares me to death. _This_ scares me to death. Losing you scares me to death." He paused, exhaling.

"But I love you. I do. Andy.. God. I, I… I do. I might not be so graceful about showing it, but I wish you'd trust me. That's…" He shook his head. "That's all I ask."

She took the keys from his outstretched arm, smiling to herself. It was a small step in the right direction. Trust was broken, but she didn't feel the need to drag their first real 'fight' out any longer. They walked around the side of the Penny towards the parking lot where Sam's truck was parked. She got into the driver's seat and sat down with a heavy sigh. He glanced over at her as she started the truck, studying her every feature. Yelling at her, watching her cry, it was awful. He never wanted to go back there.

She pulled the truck out of the Penny's parking lot.

"Never again." She said, still reeling from their conversation.

He looked over at her, a deep sorrow in his eyes. "Never." He said, sliding his hand towards hers. He interlocked their fingers delicately, pressing a gentle kiss to the back on her hand, lowering it to his thigh.

He looked into her eyes with the deepest sincerity in the world.

"I promise."

* * *

The End.


End file.
